Yet More Scrap Iron
by Old Iron
Summary: A place for miscellaneous shorts, one-shots, and odd ideas I've written for Fate/Stay Night. Strangeness abound, but come on in and enjoy.
1. Hard Work

Hey everyone, Iron here. S&S9 is currently in the works and I figured I'd post a few things I've written in the past which were only posted on Beast's Lair. This is one of them, a two part short I think I wrote on a dare... Can't quite remember. It was well over a year ago and has never been beta'd. Still, I hope you enjoy it.

The usual disclaimers apply and I'd be glad to receive any comments and criticisms.

Hard Work: Part 1

It was another slow day at Copenhagen.

Such a pace was often the standard around this time of year. Autumn certainly didn't lend itself well to the same amount of business Winter or Spring did. Though Hotaruzuka Otoko didn't mind. Sure, the income was lessened, but it was nice to take it easy for a change. Her father disagreed though.

The clinking sound of glass on glass drew her attention to one who certainly didn't know how to do so. Emiya Shirou, part time employee and high school student, was currently stocking the shelves on his day off.

Why did he spend so much time working and helping others at the cost of his own being? It was a question which had plagued Otoko when she'd first met the young man. She'd found the answer rather quickly. It was endearing and worrisome at the same time. Shirou was simply that kind of man. He found happiness in such tasks. Particularly when it came to lending a hand.

As she went about her own duties, Otoko let her mind wander. Nobody was in the business and wiping down the counter wasn't exactly the most engaging of activities. The brunette thought of mindless things to pass the time. The rent to her apartment being due in a few days. The rather sour taste of a particular brand of sake she'd been offered by a potential vendor. The ridiculous antics of her close friend, Taiga.

Thinking of the excessively energetic woman brought a small frown to her features. Taiga was the one who helped watch over her employee at home. And from the tales she told, enjoyed the duty quite thoroughly. Otoko didn't like the idea of her Emi-yan being taken advantage of, even by Taiga. The teacher was a bad influence on the young man.

Otoko sighed, wanting to turn away from such thoughts. Taiga would be Taiga and further corrupt Shirou, much to her own irritation. It wasn't like she could do anything about it. She wasn't the one who watched out for the hard working lad.

A crash snapped the storekeeper out of her thoughts. It came from the corner where Shirou was working. "Emi-yan? What happened?" When no immediate response was forthcoming, Otoko stepped from behind the bar counter to investigate. "Emi-yan?"

"I'm... okay." Shirou's reply finally came about as Otoko came into view. She did not seem happy with what she saw, but appeared concerned regardless.

"You do _not_ look okay. What happened?" There was indeed concern in her voice as she approached Shirou, who was leaning against the shelving while a splattered pool of spilled sake flowed around his feet.

As Otoko stepped into the mess of spilled alcohol, he tried to stand upright as though he were in better shape than he actually was. "No, really, I'm fine. You don't need to worry, Ot-"

He was cut off in mid complaint by the reflexive correction from Otoko, "Neko, Emi-yan. Neko." She wore an amused look as she spoke. It soon melted into one of irritation and concern as she grabbed the taller male by the shoulder with one hand and forced him to look at her.

Otoko was not pleased with what she saw. She knew he worked too hard for his own good, but this was ridiculous. He'd come in to work perfectly fine, save for a few rings under his eyes. It was rare, considering his normally absurdly healthy constitution, but not enough to raise eyebrows.

Right now, she was looking at an Emiya Shirou who was red in the face, breathing slightly heavily, and appeared like he'd collapse at any moment. With a scowl on her face, Otoko forced Shirou's head down and pressed her own forehead against his. Both felt a slight flush on their cheeks at the intimate motion, but Otoko brushed it off out of concern for Shirou.

"You're burning up!" Otoko's declaration came moments after they touched. She growled at the implications. Not only had Shirou come in on his day off, but he'd been sick of all things! She'd let him get away with a lot, but this was the final straw. "That's it. I'm calling a cab and sending you home to get some rest. I don't want to see one bit of you until you are completely healed and rested up! Got it?"

As Otoko began hauling Shirou away from the mess, ignoring the footprints they were leaving behind, the golden eyed young man tried to free himself from the shorter woman's grasp. By now, even he realized he should have gone home before it got this bad. "Neko, please, I can get home on my own. I..." He cuts off as a dizzy spell catches hold of him.

The brunette continued railing on him. "That means taking it easy. I'll be making sure Tai-ga!" So wrapped up was Otoko in her rant, she never noticed Shirou's shift in stance. Next she knew, a barely conscious Shirou had pinned her to the ground.

"S-sorry, I..." Shirou attempted to apologize and stand under his own power, but it was plain to see he couldn't.

For her part, Otoko was doing her best to not blush beneath Shirou's larger frame. "Don't worry about it. Its not your fault." Well, it was, but she wasn't going to hold it against him in this state. It took some doing, but eventually Otoko managed to help Shirou up and off of her. She took in his haggard visage and sighed. "There's no way you can get home like this."

Shirou attempted a small smile. "Maybe Fuji-nee could-" Again, he was cut off. It seemed to be happening a lot lately.

"No way. Taiga's a bad enough influence as it is. I won't have her taking advantage of you in this state." She knew Taiga probably wouldn't, but right now she was more concerned with the redhead's well being than making sense of the teacher's moral fiber.

"She wouldn't do that. ... I think." Emiya Shirou is not completely naive, it seems. Though it may be the fever talking.

Otoko shook her head. "I'm taking you home and I'm going to make sure you get some rest. Do you understand? I'm not taking no for an answer." Her cheeks burned slightly at the declaration before pulling Shirou's arm over her shoulder to steady the ill redhead. Said redhead gave no response beyond a resigned nod.

Twenty minutes later, consisting of two phone calls and a glass of water for the sick lad, Otoko was shoving Shirou into the back seat of a taxi. She gave the driver the address and told him to step on it. As they drove in silence towards the Emiya household, the head of said house nodded off and his head lolled onto the brunette's shoulder.

Hotaruzuka Otoko didn't bother to move him away.

Hard Work: Part 2

By the time Emiya Shirou began to regain his senses, it was well into evening.

He had vague recollections of being pulled out of a vehicle of some sort. However beyond hazy memories of events an unknown time ago, there existed only the black pall of sickness induced slumber. Blinking his golden eyes, he took in the scenery around him. It was familiar even to his bleary state of mind. How could he not recognize his own room?

The question remained of how he had actually arrived home. A trickle of the past few hours snaked its way to his consciousness. The lightheadedness. The lack of motor control. The general feeling of weakness which had pervaded his body. Illness was not something he was truly familiar with. Barring the apocalypse which had granted him a truly wonderful and amazing father and had made him into who he was today, Shirou had rarely needed to seek the services of medicines and doctors.

The few exceptions being the occasional broken limb or bad scrape which healed at a bafflingly rapid pace, and the annual checkup. Perhaps once, when he was a small child and Kiritsugu still drew breath in the world, did the redhead fall victim to sickness of the body. He could confidently say he was an absurdly healthy individual.

Heroes didn't lose to a case of the sniffles, now did they?

With a groan of effort, he further began readjusting his befuddled senses to the world around him as more recollections returned to his mind. Ah, yes. He had been at work. There was a holiday today and classes cancelled. Not wanting to laze about home and having hit a rather stellar roadblock in his already limited magecraft, he had opted to put in some extra hours at Copenhagen.

Otoko hadn't minded, at least not so far as he could tell. The slight frown he could have sworn he saw grace her features for a moment was passed off as a trick of the light. As the remainder of the events played out, filled with holes, Shirou figured it was his boss who had brought him home. At the very least, she had arranged for him to be taken home.

He'd have to do something nice for her in repayment for helping him.

As he sat up with another grunt, his mind began wandering to Hotaruzuka Otoko. Shirou would admit he didn't know terribly much about his boss, but he could honestly say she seemed like a good person. She was also diligent, a hard worker who did her job to the fullest.

It was something he could appreciate.

Shirou had known the woman for a few years now. It sounded longer than it actually was and he could trace it back to one of Taiga's drunken escapades. His self-declared guardian had come stumbling in one evening looking far more smashed than was the norm for her usual bouts of courting someone she referred to as "The Captain". A reference he had failed to grasp more than once. Hauling in the drunken tiger was a brunette of slightly shorter stature. She was pink in the cheeks, showing she had imbibed of her own share of liquor. However, she was far more sober than her charge.

It was not the most ideal of first meetings, made even less so when Taiga emptied the contents of her stomach onto his person. Covered in alcohol and vomit, with a thoroughly pissed Taiga on his back, was how Shirou first met Otoko.

He met her again a few weeks later under similar, but far more... pleasant circumstances. It seemed Taiga had learned the benefits of not drinking to such excess.

Their third meeting was when he learned of Otoko's dislike of her name, preferring to be addressed as Neko instead. He had received the nickname "Emi-yan" upon the same evening. He had been slightly irked by the new form of address at the time, but let it began to grow on him.

The fourth meeting had Shirou questioning Taiga's reasoning for such absurd levels of liquor consumption. At the rate she was going, the kendoist either had a liver of the gods or was intending to test the theory of whether or not she could develop one. Otoko seemed irritated at the time, which seemed to stem from the rather unwanted poking and prodding she was receiving from her friend.

It was also at this meeting when Otoko had offered him a job. The offer was nothing special or fancy, merely a position as a stock boy at the bar she and her father ran. Shirou had accepted the offer almost immediately. The chance to be useful, and even earn some money of his own, was far too good to pass up. He recalled she seemed pleased at his acceptance and they had shared a brief laugh about getting him away from Taiga for a bit.

As his mind returned to the more immediate timeframe, he began to detect the faint aroma of something cooking. Had Sakura come over, likely at Otoko's request, to help him out? She didn't need to do so much. Still, he wouldn't complain considering his current state.

Against his better judgement, which was already rather lacking according to the few friends he had, he rose to his feet and exited his room. There was a slight chill on his body which didn't sit well with him. Something he attributed to the Autumn weather.

Tentatively, he called out as he entered visual range of the kitchen, "Saku-ra...?" Whatever he had been expecting had not been what he laid eyes upon. For there in his kitchen, her long brown hair pulled into a ponytail and wearing one of his aprons, was none other than Otoko herself. From his viewpoint, Shirou could see her working on some manner of dish. Likely soup if his guess was correct.

His voice had apparently carried far enough for the woman to hear him and she turned to lay her gaze upon his form. Her tone was reprimanding, but not harsh, as she greeted him, "Oh, you're up, Emi-yan. You should get back in bed and get some more rest. I'll bring you something to eat soon."

Shirou's mind tried to process the scene further as his boss spoke and he tilted his head to the side in confusion. "Neko... Why... are you cooking?" It was plain to hear, even in his own struggling mind, he was not quite collected yet.

A frown graced Otoko's features as she placed her hands on her hips. "Because _someone_ decided to come to work sick as a dog. You didn't think I'd just dump you here and leave, did you?"

Shaking his head slowly, the redhead looked a little sheepish. "No, I just wasn't expecting this. I thought you'd have called Sakura or Fuji-nee."

"I wouldn't let Taiga within a mile of you in your current state," she replied with a look of amusement, "I have trouble enough when you're at your best. And I don't know anything about Sakura aside from what you've told me, much less how to contact her. Besides, you don't seem like the kind of man who would make a girl walk home in the dark after taking care of you, now do you." The last bit had been a bit of a rib, which seemed to have penetrated the fog of Shirou's mind.

"Of course I wouldn't!" he replied hotly, not entirely appreciating the teasing jab. With slightly wobbly steps, he entered the dining room and sat down slowly at the table. "But what about you? You don't have a car."

Otoko waved him off with a grin. "Don't worry yourself, I'm a tough girl. Besides, I called my old man and he'll be here to pick me up in an hour or so." She turned to continue stirring the bubbling pot of soup. "I'm making potato soup. It'll help you get back on your feet. Always helped me at least." Her smile remained unseen to the redheaded infirm.

"I..." Shirou shook his head, not having the will or reason to argue. "Thanks, Neko. I really appreciate you doing this."

The steaming mixture of hot food bubbled away as Otoko stirred it slowly. "Any time, Emi-yan. Any time."

-End-


	2. One Who is A God

This one was another odd idea that popped out of discussions on who else Shirou could summon as a Servant. Unbeta'd and a little old. You can definitely tell its been sitting around for a while. Those familiar with Touhou ought to recognize it a little better than others.

The usual disclaimers apply and I'd be glad to receive any comments and criticisms.

One Who is A God

Emiya Shirou ran.

He ran as though his life depended on it.

Fire lanced through his legs as they were pushed beyond human limitations by the sheer desire to live.

The only saving grace for this young man had been the hesitance of his pursuer to strike him down. However, from another angle, it was a far more cruel way to die. Holding onto the false hope of being able to escape such a super human executioner. She had expressed regret at her course of action, cursing someone she called "Master".

Still, it mattered little to Shirou. He could not die yet. He hadn't become a superhero. He hadn't saved anyone.

Emiya Shirou ran like the wind.

When he could run no more, he was standing in the yard of his home. The sky had cleared of clouds, bathing his gravesite in moonlight. In his hands was a wooden pole, the haft of a push broom he'd forgotten to put away. It looked odd to the woman with the unseen sword.

This makeshift weapon had been reinforced to the point of near perfection by such an amateur magus.

Shirou grunted with effort as he tried to fight off his blonde haired grim reaper. She allowed only a few blows to be parried before destroying his weapon, sending the redhead flying towards the shed with that same mighty blow. Her mercy was truly terrible.

The feeling of mana flooded the area as she approached and Saber halted her advance, on guard by the sudden change in the execution ground. Shirou looked up from his beaten and prone position in front of the doors to his shed, his last refuge and workshop. Perhaps there was something he could do if he could get inside?

Emiya Shirou refused to die, he had faith in his dream to become a hero who would save everyone.

"Such faith is to be commended, young man." The voice rang out, powerful and ancient. It came from all directions as a mighty wind swept through the yard. The pulsating waves mana ceased to radiate outward and coalesced into a single, pulsating mass.

Saber knew instinctively this young man was no longer an innocent bystander.

Shirou would have asked who had spoken, but was struck dumb as the doors to his workshop exploded outward. No, exploded was the wrong word to use. They had parted before the mighty presence the only way they possibly could.

A great pillar had erupted forth and slammed into the stunned Saber, blasting her clean off her feet. Only the tremendous skill she wielded saved her from being impaled upon the column and pinned against the far wall as though she were an insect to be studied.

The presence moved. Each footstep resounded through the bodies of the two present: the Servant Saber and the unknowing Master.

When moonlight bathed the newcomer in light, both felt so very small before it.

"So then, child." The woman, for she certainly held such a form, addressed the dumbfounded Emiya Shirou. "I have deigned you worthy enough to declare yourself to be the Master of myself, the Servant Archer." There was no question to confirm the validity of the contract, only the declaration. Her words simply carried the authority to do so.

"Who, are you?" managed the redhead, awestruck before her. Even his executioner seemed to be so as she stood from the blow she had received.

She seemed a slight affronted at his question, but allowed it to pass, "I? I am the God of Wind, The God of Rain. Heaven is my domain." A proud look appeared on her divine face as she crossed her arms over her chest, bringing attention to a peculiar mirror resting atop her breasts. "You may address me as the God of Yasaka, Yasaka Kanako."

"Yasaka... Kanako-sama..." Even as Emiya Shirou had been blinded by the dream of his father, he could not help but feel his entire world become encompassed by this woman who called herself a god. His voice was filled with wonder and awe.

Kanako looked down at the young man who had summoned her, still having not stood from his place upon the ground. "And is it not right for you to introduce yourself, I would have thought you'd be a proper gentleman."

Shirou's face reddened at the rebuke while Saber attempted to regain her senses. The desire to run, to flee, to _kneel _before this presence was overwhelming. She could barely hear her twisted Master's command to return in the face of this woman who held an authority far greater than her own.

"Shirou. Emiya Shirou," answered the redhead as he stood.

As the woman who declared herself a god, allowing herself to be named even after assuming the title of Archer, smiled at the one who desired to become a hero, Emiya Shirou knew. He knew his dream to become a superhero who would save everyone would change. For such is the draw of those who are gods.

As Saber made her retreat, Kanako glanced over to the entryway and called out, "You there! Child! Stop hiding and come out, I would have words with you."

Tohsaka Rin stepped into the light, her own Servant, wielding a great red lance, accompanied her. A look of shock upon both their faces. Neither was able to speak a word.

A superior smile graced the god's features, "Let us go inside. I have a feeling there is much to discuss. Isn't that right, Shirou-kun?" Her Master only nodded, enthralled by her being.

None could refuse the woman, for the demands of a god speaking as a god are absolute.

-End-


	3. Upon The Wings of Yata

This one was the second odd idea in the same vein as the one which spawed the Kanako short.

The usual disclaimers apply and I'd be glad to receive any comments and criticisms.

Upon The Wings of Yata

This was it. Emiya Shirou would surely die for the second time this evening.

His makeshift weapon had proven useless against the blue clad man and his blood red spear. There had been no safety to be found in his makeshift workshop. The doors of the shed had been easily torn away by his assailant.

As the blue haired spearman advanced upon the defenseless Shirou, a faint blue light began to radiate up from aged floorboards. Neither noticed the soft glow.

"Sorry kid, but orders are orders. Curse your fate in hell," stated the man as he prepared to end Shirou's life once more.

Am I really going to die here, having accomplished nothing? I don't want to die. I-I haven't become a hero yet!. Such were the thoughts of Emiya Shirou.

Surely as if responding to the desires of the unfortunate young man, the blue glow erupted into a brilliant display of azure light. It forced Lancer from the shed while forcing Shirou to shield his eyes. For a brief moment he caught the sight of long, dark hair and what appeared to be massive shoulders. Then, there was the heat. It was someone had made a fire in the confines of the building.

As the light died down, Shrou blinked spots from his eyes and turned his gaze upward. The new figure turned to face him, the temperature dropping to more manageable levels as it did so.

The young woman, for she could only be such, spoke to him in a voice which seemed both innocent and ancient, "I, Servant Saber, have responded to your call. I ask of you, are you my Master?"

Shirou sat there for what seemed like an eternity, taking in the sight of this 'Saber'. She was clad in a white shirt with a large red gem situated atop her breasts and a long green skirt. Her left arm seemed to have been burned horribly all the way around her elbow while the one leg not clad in a long sock had a similar burn at mid-thigh.

As his gaze wandered over her, Shirou took notice what he had thought were massive shoulders were anything but. Jutting out from the girl's back were a pair of massive black wings.

The girl tilted her head at the lack of response. "Did I not do it right? Umm..." She would have looked rather cute had the situation not been so dire.

"Oi!" hollered Lancer from the yard, sounding rather displeased at being ignored.

"Unyu!?" Surprise colored the winded female's features as her attention was drawn from her worried confusion. She rubbed the back of her head in embarrassment, drawing attention tot he green bow she wore in her long black hair. "Um, sorry, sir. I'm a little busy."

Shirou was probably more confused than the woman he had supposedly summoned.

"Anywyay," she turned back to the prone redhead as though Lancer didn't exist, "Are you my Master?" Shirou only nodded dumbly, too worried at what would happen if he denied the claim. Plus, with the other alternative being death by spear? He was willing to look at other options.

A brilliant smile appeared on Saber's face as she clapped her hands while jumping for joy. An action that did interesting things to her chest, something even Shirou was unable to ignore. "Its my first Grail War, and I was afraid I'd messed it up!" She kneeled down in front of Shirou and grasped his hands. "Thank you very much, Master. I'll do my best!"

"HEY!" shouted Lancer, "Stop freaking ignoring me!" Poor Lancer, he gets no love.

"Watch me, Master. I'll get him good!" Shirou could only watch dumbly as the girl charged the spear using maniac with her bare hands. He noticed the temperature had begun to rise once again.

-Some time after Lancer's beat down, Saber is squaring off against Berserker-

Saber could only look on in horror at the scene before her. She'd been fortunate so far, using her ability to fly about to escape the enraged demigod's earth shattering blows. But when one strike too many had come close enough for the sword-less Saber to be in peril, her Master had intervened. Shirou had roughly shoved her out of the way, taking what would have been a severe blow to her, as a mortal wound for himself.

"S-Shirou?" Her voice was meek and her ruby eyes filled with tears as she cradled the broken body of Emiya Shirou in her arms. Even Rin seemed horrified at the sight of the Servant holding what remained of the boy. "Come on, Shirou, wake up. Don't leave me along. Y-you haven't even patted me on the head yet."

One might wonder how she could become so attached to her Master in such a short amount of time, but Saber is just that kind of girl.

"W-well, big brother should have stayed out of this. For his own safety," the while haired Master taunted with a hitch in her voice. "I did warn him. Now, Berseker, finish them off!" Hercules roared and obeyed his Master's order.

"...You." Rin looked at Saber, barely able to hear the words from the girl's mouth, "I won't forgive you." The magus stepped back as the heat in the area shot up sharply and winds buffeted her body. "I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!"

A blazing light flared around Saber's body as she lifted into the sky, her wings curled about her. The red gem upon her chest flared blood red and what appeared to be a single slitted pupil opened within it. The limbs bearing the scars shredded themselves in a burst of flame, becoming nothing more than motes of fire. Upon the leg, the motes regathered to become metal and rock. A leg of steel armor adorned with stone. A trio of the motes began circling about her flesh and blood foot as though they were planets orbiting a star. Upon her back and over her wings rested a mantle of purest white on one side and a gateway to the stars on the other.

Her arm filled all with a terror unknown as it came into proper being. It was as though someone had grafted a massive pillar upon the charred stump left behind. The pillar was of a yellowish metal and six sided, extending outward by half again the length of her original arm. It throbbed with power.

Saber unfurled her wings to their fullest, sending out a searing burst of heat as she opened her eyes. Still blazing like red stars, they were now adorned with a single symbol each: an arrangement of golden triangles.

"You wish to know why I qualify for Saber?" hissed the woman as she floated in the air, resplendent in all her hellish glory. Her voice was not innocent anymore. No, this was a voice belonging to something ancient and terrible. "My sword is one held to the throat of all planets by their stellar hosts." The pillar on her arm shifted, opened, and crackled with energy.

Her Master dead, Saber held nothing left of worth in this world. Saber would end this iteration of the War in revenge for her fallen Master. Truly, Gaia had made a grave miscalculation in permitting the summons of such an unstable being.

The pillar was raised towards Berserker and Saber uttered the announcement of her Noble Phantasm, "Subterranean Sun."

That evening, the city of Fuyuki was reduced to a molten crater, forever ending the Holy Grail War.

-Utsuho Route: BAD END-


End file.
